Correspondence
by FeatherxxDreams
Summary: Over the years, Tim may have fallen in love with him a little. older!Damian/Tim. (1/1)


**To Read With the Correct Spacing:** www .archiveofourown works / 536324 (without spaces, and a DOT ORG before 'works')

* * *

It's been a handful of years (two to be exact) since Tim had last seen his family. Tim has an apartment in the city and he tactfully avoids any and all family reunions, so it surprises him when he gets an email, in the private account he's sure _none_ of the family knows, from Damian.

_Damian_.

Tim opens it warily, half sure it's some kind of virus.

_**Drake,**_

_Grayson demanded that I start emailing you in order to mend our family bond. This is not my idea, but if you do not reply and Grayson does something about it, I will hunt you down._

_**Damian Wayne.**_

Tim sighs, scratching the side of his neck. It does sound like something Dick would do, and the wording definitely lines up with Tim's memory of Damian. Tim drums his fingers on the computer desk, wondering how to approach this. Damian was thirteen or fourteen now, depending on when his birthday was (because if Tim was honest with him, he didn't have a clue).

_**Damian,**_

_You should start addressing people by their first names. _

_**Tim**_

He sends the email off, turning away from the desk and going for his textbooks.

:::

A few days later, Tim is enjoying the slim amount of free time he has before a seminar he has to attend when his computer pings at him. It takes him a moment to realize it's for his personal email and he pulls his laptop closer, bringing up the email.

_**Drake,**_

_I will not start calling you by your given name. Grayson has instated that I ask a meaningful question in each email. Why have you not given up your claim on Father's company?_

_**Damian Wayne.**_

Tim shakes his head.

_**Damian,**_

_That isn't a meaningful question, so I'm not going to answer._

_**Tim.**_

:::

"I tanked that test!"

Tim smiles sympathetically as Brandon smothers his face with another pillow. "That's why you need to study for our history test instead of suffocating yourself with my pillow."

"Too many tests. Not enough time." Bran replies.

Tim rolls his eyes, "Think of it this way; we have tomorrow off."

"But the history test is in an hour. I'm going to fail again."

Tim glances at his laptop when it pings, "Then crack open a book and get to it."

He lays stomach-down, shifting closer to the laptop. He hears Bran roll off his couch and search for his textbook as he opens the email.

_**Drake,**_

_Grayson has informed me what he means by meaningful questions. How is school?_

_**Damian Wayne.**_

The corner of Tim's mouth twitches and he sets to type a reply.

_**Damian,**_

_School is fine. I haven't had a class that's a challenge yet. Do you even go to school?  
__**Tim**_

He feels Bran hover over his shoulder, "Who're you emailing?"

"No one that can help you study," Tim looks pointedly at the closed textbook supporting his hands. Bran scowls and retreats, appropriately chastised.

:::

_**Drake,**_

_Why would I go to school when all of the classes are beneath me? There is no point in going to class if there is no challenge, thus rendering your enrollment in college useless._

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_It's not useless. I need a degree if I ever work somewhere besides Wayne Enterprises. And you know the point of you going to school is to improve your social skills, not your education, right? Bruce knows you're smart, but everyone knows you can't socialize without threatening someone._

_**Tim.**_

_**Drake,**_

_I do not have inadequate social skills. I choose to only associate with those worth my time, such as Cain or Grayson (Notice I did not threaten you for your insult)._

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_Wow, good job, you made it through one email without promising bodily harm. And since when have you hung out with Cass? Also, considering you're emailing me (and you initiated it), shouldn't I be on that list? (Add Alfred to it)_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake, **_

_Why would I not spend time with my sister? You do not belong on that list, though I will add Pennyworth to it. Referring to a previous email, why would you work somewhere that isn't my father's company? Are you giving up your claim?_

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_No. I just mean if I decide to do something else later in my life, once I'm too old for our extracurriculars._

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_It's not as if you work with us anymore._

_**Damian Wayne**_

:::

Tim leans back, hands still on the keyboard. Damian is right, more or less. It's easier to avoid going back to Gotham than to prepare for the awkwardness that living with Bruce again would invoke. Things weren't terrible when he left, but Tim wouldn't say they were good either. His relationship with Bruce was still tense. Despite the easy reunion they had, Bruce kept getting suspicious of Ra's interest in Red Robin and Tim's blatant refusal to talk about what he had almost done to bring Kon-El back to life. Dick isn't around much now that he's back in his own city and Bruce is Batman. Jason isn't really part of their family unless an enemy declares total war on Gotham and Damian has never liked him.

Tim blinks at the email. Well, maybe Damian likes him a little more now, even if Dick was the one to make Damian start emailing him.

Tim sighs and closes his laptop, slumping in the chair and wondering how he is going to reply.

:::

_**Drake,**_

_It's been three weeks since you've replied to my message. Proper conduct suggests I ask if you have died._

_**Damian Wayne.**_

_**Damian,**_

_I'm not dead, I had finals week. Just because classes are easy doesn't mean I shouldn't prepare for the tests._

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_I was under the impression that I had upset you by referring to your discontinuation of your extracurricular activities and I do not like to be under false impressions. Warn me next time. Did you pass your inferior tests?_

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_I'm sorry? I can't tell if you're pouting or serious, so maybe you should, I don't know, work on those social skills we talked about. But I'll warn you when next semester's midterms roll around. And of course I passed my tests. Did you pass Alfred's homeschool finals? (are they still as horrible as Dick used to complain about?)_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_I am not pouting. I do not pout. Pennyworth's tests are adequately difficult but they pose no daunting threat. Grayson was doubtably as smart as I at my age. You have a break from class now? Are you coming to Gotham?_

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_No, I'm going to Europe to do a castle tour with a few friends from my history class. What are you doing during break? Hanging out with that Colin kid?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_Possibly. I won't be emailing you while you're in Europe. Mother has requested I visit her and she has a no communication rule._

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Damian,**_

_Are you sure that's a good idea?_

_**Tim**_

_[This is an automated message. The receiver has activated their 'Vacation' status]_

:::

When Tim returns from his three month castle-hopping, Wi-Fi-less tour in Europe, he is happy to sink into a real bed. He lays on his mattress for almost an hour before he gets up to check his email.

He has a few emails from his counselor confirming his schedule for the semester, and one from Damian. Tim opens that first.

_**Drake,**_

_Why is my grandfather so impressed with you? It's unsettling. Even his ninja respect you. Stop. _

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**P.S.**__ How was the castle-hopping? Grandfather kept tabs on you._

Tim feels a mix of amused and creeped out.

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Damian,**_

_I'm not doing anything, it's just from my time as Red Robin when I went against his forces. Ra's should know better than to keep tabs on me considering I still have a few of his compounds lines with bombs. _

_So I take it the visit wasn't some creepy/evil way for Talia to brainwash you then. _

_And castle –hopping was fun._

_**Tim.**_

_**P.S. **__If you use our codenames or the names of people we know, encrypt the file. It's not that difficult and you should learn how._

_**Drake, **_

_My summer with mother was mostly uneventful. I spent the bulk of my time training with the assassins. It was not some 'evil' attempt at brainwashing. _

_Do not bomb my Grandfather's compounds. Someday, those too, will be mine._

_**Damian Wayne.**_

_**P.S.**__ I already know how. Why do you think I avoid using name's when I can, you idiot._

_**Damian,**_

_Ego much?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake**__, _

_It is not ego. I am entitled to my inheritance, which is both Gotham and the League. _

_**Damian Wayne**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Damian,**_

_Changing the subject; What are Bruce's plans for this side of the U.S.? I've mostly established Batman Inc. over here but I don't know how he wants to proceed. There's a girl here who want to be involved though. Oracle is her hero._

_**Tim.**_

:::

Tim ends up spending two months training a girl from his PSYCH class, Dawn, how to do Oracle's job from the Stanford base he created for Batman Inc. Sometimes he goes out as Red Robin, but more often he sends out Bran who has been training for a more active role in the corporation since he learned of it on their Europe hike (it helps that he plans to go into martial arts as a career).

His midterms come and go, and soon, Christmas break is upon him. For the first time in a while, Tim considers visiting Gotham. Ultimately, though, he decides to stay in Stanford and he celebrates with Bran and Dawn because out of the three of them, Tim is the only one with family left.

:::

_**Damian,**_

_How was Christmas in Gotham?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_The Joker got a hold of a snow machine and Harley rode around on a snow mobile._

_**Damian.**_

_Tim pretends not to notice that Damian shortened his signature._

_**Damian,**_

_Sucks for you. Did you get any good presents to make up for it?_

_**Tim**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Drake,**_

_Father and the Bats bought me meaningless sentimental items. Mother sent me a double-bladed katana with my Arabic name carved into the blade. Obviously she knows me better._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_I only hope you don't kill anyone with that sword_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_Do not underestimate me. I do not need a weapon to kill someone. I am a weapon._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_You aren't a weapon, you're a boy._

_**Tim**_

:::

Tim doesn't hear from Damian for a few weeks after that but he feels it's slightly justified. They're not exactly close and he may have crossed some line Damian drew for himself by shirking his upbringing.

Later, he finds out that Damian spent quite a bit of time in the hospital after a mission gone wrong, and the lack of communication cleared up.

:::

_**Damian,**_

_I heard you were in the hospital for a while. What happened?_

_**Tim**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Drake,**_

_Todd decided to try and beat us to a villain. Of course, the imbecile neglected to tell us he had lined his fake hideout with explosives, and of course the fake hideout is the one Father sent me to investigate. I was unprepared for the reaction. It will not happen again._

_**Damian **_

_**Damian,**_

_Don't punish yourself for something JT did. You're only human, it's okay to make mistakes. Regardless, I'm glad you're okay._

_**Tim**_

It takes three weeks for Tim to receive a simple thank you in his inbox.

:::

"Tim, can I ask your advice on something?'

Tim glances up from the console where Dawn is holding a sketchbook protectively to her chest.

"What's up?" He asks. When he deals with Dawn, he tries to channel Dick's mannerisms. Dawn was raised in a very strict foster home, and Tim learned quickly that she responds better to kind words and soft tones than orders.

"I was thinking of designing a full-fledged costume for Bran, you know, for the Bat theme." She taps the book against her chest repeatedly, "I was wondering if I could have your opinion."

"Sure, let's see it."

Dawn holds out the sketchbook. The design looks like a mix of the Nightwing suit when Dick still wore blue with the addition to a utility belt and a full-body cape.

"The cape is for flying," Dawn explains, "It would be made with some kind of versatile material so it hangs loose when he's hiding or fighting but would stiffen for gliding when he jumps short distances."

Tim nods, "That's good. I like it."

Dawn smiles.

"Just find out what color scheme Bran would want for beneath the cape and I'll send the order in to Central HQ."

"Thanks!" She says brightly.

Tim watches her jog off into another part of the headquarters, presumably to find Bran. He leans back in his chair, wondering how he should contact Bruce. He doesn't really want to, business or otherwise, because he just knows Bruce will try to strong-arm him back to Gotham for a personal visit, and that's not something Tim is willing to do.

Well, he has another method of contact.

He'll just try that.

:::

_**Damian,**_

_Can I ask a favor?"_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_Granted you probably don't realize this, but I have better things to do than cater to your needs. Gotham has a situation right now. _

_**Damian Wayne**_

_**Drake,**_

_Fine, what do you want?_

_**Damian**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Damian,**_

_Nice cover-up. Dawn has a design for Bran's official costume, and I think it will work. Would you be able to have it made and sent to Stanford Base without Bruce knowing?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_Because he wouldn't approve of the recipient or because you are too afraid to engage him?_

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Neither. Both. Take your pick. Can you or can't you?_

_**Tim**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Drake,**_

_Of course I can do it without alerting my Father. You'll have to send the new boy's measurements as well as the design and any weapons/gadgets he'll need that your base does not supply (a standard grapple, for instance). _

_**Damian**_

_[Encrypted Email]_

_**Damian,**_

_My grapples aren't faulty just because they can't carry as much weight as Bruce's. Bran has less mass, like me, so we don't need heavy duty ones._

_And Thank You_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_You are welcome_

_**Damian**_

_**P.S.**__ I understand it is customary to wish you a 'happy early birthday.'_

_**Damian,**_

_It's not customary if you don't want to do it, but thanks._

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_Would I have typed it if I didn't want to? _

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Honestly, I've never known why you do half the things you do._

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_To keep people guessing._

_**Damian**_

:::

"What are you doing over the summer?"

Tim taps his pen against his textbook. "Once finals get done with I'm going to Asia to scout for Batman Inc. candidates."

"And leave us here?" Dawn looks around the base, "How are we supposed to run this place? Bran only just got his costume."

"A friend is going to watch over it for me for a while. She goes by Batwoman."

"You got Batwoman to come here and train us!" Bran's voice peaks, "She's my all-time favorite Bat!"

"And Oracle will be connected to our system while I'm gone if you ever need computer help," Tim tells Dawn.

"That's amazing!"

Tim shrugs, "It's for three months."

"Well here's to hoping your search in Asia goes well."

"Yeah," Tim says, "I'm hoping that too."

:::

_**Damian**__,_

_You've probably heard that I'm going to Asia to scout for more Bats. Anybody you can recommend?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_No. I will once again be sending my summer with Mother. She wants me to go through my coming of age ceremonies again._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_That makes you 16?_

_**Tim**_

_**Drake,**_

_15._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Well, good luck._

_**Tim**_

_[This is an automated message. The receiver has activated their 'Vacation' status]_

:::

Tim does find someone in Asia, Korea to be presise. A girl slightly older than him, already trained in Northern Shaolin Kung-Fu and Ba Gua style. Tim isn't sure where she learned and she refused to say, but she signs on for the cause and goes back to Stanford with him.

Her name is Tian-Zi, and she doesn't get along with Dawn or Bran. She has a snarky attitude, a quick temper, and knows all the buttons to press. Tim starts rethinking his decision of letting her join when Bruce sends him a short message telling him not to let her quit.

He doesn't question the order, but he does force her to go to anger management sessions.

:::

_**Timothy,**_

_Grandfather respects you less. You disappointed him when you took in the Little Crane for the cause. Keep doing that._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Why are you calling me that? Ra's calls me that and it's creepy. By Little Crane, do you mean TZ-H? I told her she needs to think of a theme-related name but she isn't listening. _

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_I want to._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_I'm assuming you're referring to the name-calling, in which case, that isn't an acceptable answer. Please stop._

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_If I stop, you go back to 'Drake.' Your choice._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Someday you will be less irritating, but today is not that day._

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_I am going to take that as agreement._

_**Damian**_

:::

Tim is surprised to find that emailing Damian becomes more of a habit than a chore. Every summer they break communication for a few months while Tim avoids Gotham and Damian visits his mother.

The years pass relatively quickly, and Tim graduates Stanford at the top of his class. He gets a few packages from Gotham for graduating but they know better by now than to ask if he's coming back.

Tim spends his time training his branch of Batman incorporated and politely rejecting job offers from the competitors of Wayne Tech. He begins to limit his communication with the family to the emails he sends to Damian, causing them to be longer and filled with business talk. It gets to the point where he one day gets a text message from Damian demanding that any non-business chatter be through texting because the family commandeered his email account since that's all Tim used to speak to them with anymore.

:::

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god,"

"Dawn, you're hurting me!"

Tim glances over at the couple as Dawn slowly releases the death grip she has on Bran's arm. They're watching some horror flick that does nothing for Tim (try being scared of a movie after facing the Scarecrow), piled on the couch in the small space of headquarters reserved for recreation.

The two are on the floor, backs against the couch. Tim and Tian-Zi are on the couch, sticking to opposite sides, both texting. Bran glances back at them. "If you're texting each other, I'm going to give you a disappointed stare."

"I'm not texting him," Tian-Zi says, "Anyway, we all know he's texting his boyfriend."

Tim pauses midway through a snarky reply to a typically Damian message. "What?"

Bran pauses the movie on a still of the protagonist's screaming face. "Uh, that dude you're always texting."

Dawn nods, "Right. When we all met it was mostly emails but you've evolved into texting. Are we ever going to meet him?"

Tim stares at them, "…I don't have a boyfriend."

Tian-Zi lowers her phone, "You don't? Then who are you texting so often?"

"Just a friend," Tim frowns at them. Mentally he wonders when he started considering Damian a friend, but it isn't quite untrue anymore.

"Just a friend?" Tian-Zi sounds suspicious, "Your friend wouldn't happen to be Robin, would he?"

"How do you know that?"

"People talk," She goes back to her text messaging, "I mean, out of everyone in this room, you're the one who hasn't been to Gotham in a few years. I've _met _Robin."

Tim leans over and snatches her phone, looking at the SENDER tab, "Who's RH?"

Tian-Zi snatches it back, "Nobody."

Dawn turns around, cupping her chin, "I thought you were dating Robin."

"Now that I think about it," Bran says, "Last time I was in Gotham I'm pretty sure Nightwing told me he thought you were too."

"What?" Tim gapes.

"I did think it was a little weird at first," Dawn says, "cause you know, Robin's, like, just graduating high school."

"Oh my god," Tim buries his head in his hands. "Please just shut up."

"I wonder which one of you is the dominant. I mean, Robin is pretty terrifying. I can't imagine him listening to anyone." Dawn says innocently.

"Please stop talking, please stop talking."

Tian-Zi waves her phone, "Oracle says you're in denial."

"Stop texting my family!" Tim reaches for her phone. Tian-Zi gets off the couch and walks out of the room, texting rapidly.

"You know what would clear all of this up?" Bran asks.

"What?" Tim groans.

"If you stopped by Gotham."

"No," Tim takes the decorative pillow at his side and whacks both of them in the head.

:::

_Did you decide where you're going to college?_

_**-T**_

_I've already graduated college. Multiple times._

_**-D**_

_But Bruce is making you go again anyway, right? Where to?_

_**-T**_

_Gotham University School of Business. Considering my credits, I will be out in two years. After that I'm going abroad to study with my Mother for another two, and then I will return to Gotham and take my Father's legacy._

_**-D**_

_Big dreams. What are you studying with your Mother?_

_**-T**_

_The League_

_**-D**_

_Wait, you're taking over the League?_

_**-T**_

_And after that I will take over the Cowl_

_**-D**_

_Well, damn. Good luck, I guess?_

_**-T**_

_Luck has nothing to do with it._

_**-D**_

:::

"Tim, we have an awkward request." Dawn says one day while Tim is slaving over the latest malfunction in security.

"Yeah," Bran says slowly, "I know we just celebrated your birthday and all, but, uh…"

Tian-Zi folds her arms, "We want you to leave."

Dawn shoots her a look, "No! Not exactly. Um, we just think that we can run pretty well on our own now and…"

"You need to go," Tian-Zi finishes, "Because," An uncharacteristically soft expression graces her face, "We think you need a vacation. You've been working with us for almost seven years now without any time to yourself. Go to Paris! Go to Madrid! Go somewhere where you can relax and stop thinking about crime and justice and everything. Just take really _really_ long break, okay?"

"I…" Tim looks between them, "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or flattered."

"Be flattered." Dawn suggests with a bright smile.

"Look, we already got it cleared with Batman, and he agrees. You need a break."

Tim looks down, "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Well, your boyfriend went to the Middle-East, right? Start there." Bran says.

"He's not my boyfriend," Tim sighs.

"Just go!" They all groan.

Tim lifts up his hands, "Okay, now I _am_ insulted."

:::

Tim travels around Europe for a year. He spends a lot of time in Stratford-upon-Avon and Cardiff to the point of where he buys a small flat in both cities. He visits Germany and Spain and Portugal and Finland and everywhere else on the map.

He actually does enjoy himself, despite the times he feels…alone. Damian is training with his Mother and barely replies to his messages, so Tim starts slowly getting back in contact with Dick. Dick is enthusiastic about it, but he has a city to protect and a day job.

At the moment, Tim is sitting outside a café he's come to love in Stratford, trying to decipher a letter for the team back in Stanford (because for all their pushing, they've contacted Tim every time they need help with detective work).

He doesn't take notice when someone slips into the seat across from him until he hears a deep, familiar voice state "Detective" quite cordially.

Tim looks up slowly, mouth hanging open, "…Ra's Al Ghul?"

The older man sniffs stiffly, folding his arms across the table, "It has come to my attention that you spend quite a bit of time contacting my grandson."

Tim hesitates before answering, "I wasn't aware that you considered Damian your grandson after he chose Bruce over Talia."

"My grandson made a child's mistake. That he comes to us every year and still wants to inherit my legacy proves as much," Ra's pauses as a waitress sets down a glass of wine before him. Tim blinks, unaware that they even had wine at the café, and pretty damn sure Ra's had never ordered any. "However, I am not here to talk about the mistake in his past, moreover, I am here to discuss your intentions with him."

Tim lowers the pen in his hand, "I'm sorry, my _what_?"

"Your intentions, detective." Ra's repeats, "You have been contacting my grandson above the others in your family since you were nineteen years of age, making him twelve. First, I would like to know if you had any hand in the decisions he's made as he's grown."

"Er, no." Tim leans away from him, "I doubt that. You know it was him who started emailing me, right?"

"But you replied, and thus, here we are."

Tim folds his arms, "I don't see why you're questioning _me_."

"Secondly," Ra's continues, "I assume you will not hinder Damian's path to _both_ of his legacies."

Tim raises his eyebrows.

"So I return to my original inquiry; What are your intentions with my grandson?" Ra's takes a drink, "It is expected for the leader of the League to have a companion of equal footing to help soothe the stress and demands that come with the position, and as bane as I am to admit, you are an impressive person."

"Alright," Tim breathes loudly, "Let's be clear. I'm not doing anything to or with your grandson. We're just emailing and texting. Just _talking_. That's it. I'm not dating him, he's not dating me, we are not dating each other!"

Ra's expression doesn't change. "Ah, I see." He stands, "We'll save the rest of this conversation for when you are, then."

"Wait, what-?"

Ra's turns and walks away, and as he does, so do many of the other patrons of the café. Even the waitress. Tim slumps back in his chair, "_Fucking_ ninja."

:::

_**Damian, **_

_We need to talk._

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_Back to emailing? _

_**Damian **_

_**Damian,**_

_It will be too long for texting_

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_Carry on, then._

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_I feel like I should have mentioned this earlier. Years earlier. People seem to think we're dating because we text a lot and that was whatever, I could deal with that, but Ra's just cornered me in Stratford and demanded to know what my 'intentions' are with you. Uh, what's going on here?_

_**Tim**_

_**Timothy,**_

_I am aware my grandfather thinks we are 'an item.' I chose to ignore it because, honestly, what do you think he's going to do about it? Nothing. _

_**Damian**_

_**Damian,**_

_Are we? I mean, are we dating?_

_**Tim**_

:::

Tim leans back from his computer, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He honestly doesn't know what to think anymore. He used to be sure he knew what Damian was; a threat and a rival (though, honestly, that was mostly Damian's fault on the rival part and Tim's on the threat part). They evolved into friendship when they started emailing more frequently, then texting, but Tim has to admit that Damian is probably the person he's the closest to right now. The person who knows the most about him.

He's told Damian things in passing that nobody else knows and he knows Damian has confided things to him over the years. Not to mention Tim has always had a screwed up view of relationships and how they work, and Damian undoubtedly is the same. Tim shuts his computer, wondering where the closest bar is.

He needs a drink.

:::

_I'm confused, are you ignoring me?_

_**-T**_

_Seriously? You're 21 years old. _

_**-T**_

_Okay. Fine. Whatever. Have it your way._

_**-T**_

_Though I don't see what I did to warrant this._

_**-T**_

_If you don't cease texting me during my FINALS, I will block you._

_**-D**_

:::

Eventually, Tim goes back to Gotham.

He's twenty-eight years old when he finally comes back to his apartment suite and sees just what he left behind. There's dust everywhere and the entire floor smells stale. Tim drops his bag on the floor, sending a cloud of dust in the air. He waves it away from his face, coughing. "Great." He whispers to himself.

The next few days are used for heavy-duty cleaning. By the time the apartment looks alive again, Tim feels like he's taken a bath in bleach. Everything is unpacked from his trip, all the odds and ends he collected on the display shelf in the living room. To celebrate, Tim orders pizza from the greasiest restaurant he remembers and eats on the floor while he watches Batman and Robin apprehend some criminals on live TV. It takes him a few seconds to realize the Robin on screen is not Damian.

Tim is calling the Manor before he thinks twice about it.

Alfred answers, "Wayne Manor, Alfred speaking."

"Alf? Hey, it's Tim."

"Ah, Master Timothy. It_ has _been awhile." Alfred's tone leaks disappointment.

"I…yeah. Um, I'm watching the news right now and…who is Robin?"

"Oh? A young boy Master Damian found digging through the dumpsters outside of his university a few years ago."

Tim focuses on Batman, "Is Damian Batman?"

"Sometimes," Alfred begins cryptically, "Master Bruce is getting on in age, so Damian takes over on the nights where Master Bruce can feel his age, rather than push it away."

"Huh."

"May I ask where you are that Gotham broadcast is being shown?"

Tim swallows, "I…I'm home. I'm at home."

"Quite right." Tim can imagine Alfred nodding, " You'd best get over here soon and let the others know."

"I'll do that." Tim promises.

:::

The first person Tim goes to see is Dick. He drives to Blüdhaven and meets him on the rooftops during Nightwing's patrol with Chinese take-out and an apology. Dick hugs him tightly, then tosses him off the roof in his sick way of initiating rooftop tag. (Tim is pretty sure he almost dies).

Tim calls his Stanford team next, letting them know he isn't coming back. They accept the decision on the condition that he'll visit someday with his boyfriend. He hangs up on them.

Eventually, Tim returns to the Manor. It's one of the nights where Damian is Batman so when Tim ventures into the cave, Bruce is at the console with Alfred. His hair is graying at the temples and the lines around his eyes appear deeper, but he looks happy watching Damian on the screen. Tim can tell he's surprised by how proud he is of his son, and Tim is proud of Bruce just for that.

"Hey, B."

Bruce looks over, "Tim." He greets with fake stiffness. Tim walks over to him and doesn't hesitate to give him a hug. Bruce hesitates before hugging back just as tightly. They break apart smiling.

Behind him, Alfred clears his throat, "The monitors, Sirs."

Bruce turns back to the system, "How long are you staying?"

"I think I'm staying for good." Tim says.

"Then you won't mind if I put you straight to work?"

"Go ahead," Tim laughs.

Later, when the Batmobile pulls into the cave and Robin jumps out, as spastic and energized as Robin should be, he stops dead when he sees Tim hovering by Bruce's shoulder.

"Oh my god…oh my god!" He runs up to Tim, standing on his toes, "You're Red Robin! Oh my god!"

"Robin!" Batman barks, climbing out of the vehicle. "Go change. You can fawn later."

Robin salutes, "Sir yes sir!"

Robin launches off the platform and runs to the changing bay. Tim raises his eyebrows as he goes. "Wow."

"Indeed," Alfred agreed.

Batman walks up the steps to the platform, arms rising to push back the cowl. He reveals tanned skin and blue eyes, hair matted back with sweat, and somehow he looks perfect. Tim hopes his mouth isn't dropping open as he takes in the high cheekbones, angular facial structure, and full lips. Damian still looks like Bruce, but he looks like Talia in all the right places.

"I see you're back," Damian addresses him.

"A few days ago." Tim replies, flinching way from Bruce's sharp look, "What? I had to clean up my house."

Damian moves to stand by Tim's side, pulling off the gauntlets. "The Riddler left another clue."

"I'll look it over later," Bruce says.

"Who's the kid?" Tim asks.

"His name is Eli." Damian answers brusquely. "I'm going to change. I'll return shortly."

"And I'm going to go make some tea for you all," Alfred announces.

"I'll come with you," Tim offers.

"Yes, I think you shall."

:::

"You never answered my question." Tim struggles to keep his eyes open. He's warm and comfortable by the fireplace after Eli dragged him into the room to watch a movie (Eli fell asleep _way_ before Tim, by the way) and he just wants to close his eyes and snuggle into a blanket.

Damian is on the other side of the new Robin, and he hums thoughtfully, "Which one?"

"Were we dating? Are we?" Tim asks, "Because I thought about it after Ra's cornered me and I honestly couldn't tell you."

"We never went on dates," Damian says, "Or verbally communicated."

"Yeah, but…do you need to do those things to be dating?"

"I suppose not," Damian replies quietly. He shifts so Eli lies against him more comfortably.

"They're proud of you. Ra's and Bruce." Tim says, "For becoming who you became."

"How very vague of you." Damian shifts again, this time just picking Eli up and setting him of the couch behind them.

"Yeah, but they are." Tim shrugs, "It's impressive. You used to be this little demon brat and now you're…well, now you're Batman."

"I was always going to be Batman."

"But now you deserve it." Tim moves closer to the fire, shutting off the television and sending the room into partial darkness, only lit by the flames before him.

Damian sits and leans back on his palms, "I never asked, but I am curious; Why did you leave Gotham?"

Tim sighs, "I don't know. Sometimes I think I did it because I didn't like what I was turning into. Most of the time I just think I was scare. I hated that Gotham was the only defining factor I had, and I wanted to be something more than that." He looks around the edges of darkness, "Guess that didn't go as planned. I created a team only to leave them high and dry."

"They knew you would always come back here. Like Grayson and Todd say, once a Gothamite," Damian lets his tone trail off. "And if Grayson and Todd agree on something, then it has merit."

"I guess." Tim stops. "So? Are we?"

"Are we what?" Damian asks, "Ah. Are we dating?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose that depends. Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"That depends. Is Ra's going to hide in the shadows and spy on us the whole time?"

Damian scowls at the idea.

Tim smiles a little, "But I would like that. Not the Ra's part, but the other part. The date part."

Damian smirks back at him, "Then I guess we have a date."


End file.
